Don't Let Me Be The One To Hurt You
by darrenstooshorttoevencareatall
Summary: It's the 69th Hunger Games. For some, it's just another Reaping, just another year watching teens fight to the death. For Jeff, it's completely different. Rated T for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

I've seen a few of The Hunger Game based Klaine's going around recently and I all I could think was 'A Niff Hunger Games would be awesome'. So here is chapter one. For those who have no read the novels, I did/will do my best to explain it as it goes, so you won't get confused. For those who are fans of the trilogy, please forgive me if I make a mistake.

I have a lot planned for this story, so I hope you enjoy and sick around to see where I take the boys. Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>Jeff went through every worst days of his life. Every time he had whined and complained, thinking that nothing would outdo how horrible this one day was. Like the time he broke his leg before the final soccer game when he was eleven, the time he got food poisoning and missed dissection day in school, the day he realized he was in love and those feelings would never be reciprocated. The day he lost Nick. That one stung a little more than the others, Jeff having forgotten about it for the longest time.<p>

He saw the day clearly in his mind, as if he were back at the train station platform, his best friend standing in front of him with the same pained expression. Tears rolled down each of their faces, sad smiles gracing their lips as they said their goodbyes. They'd been best friends since they were kids, neighbors growing up. They were the only people the other could turn to and be completely honest with. When Nick told Jeff he was leaving, he felt part of himself die. Moving districts was like moving to the moon. The chances of seeing each other were slim to none, and slim just jumped out the window.

So there they stood, in one final embrace. Nick's arms around Jeff's shoulders, the blond holding his best friend around the waist. His father gave a sound of annoyance as the boys refused to let each other go.

"I won't forget you Nicky. We'll write letters. I can't lose you…" Jeff muttered from where his head was resting, face buried into the others shoulder, feeling his tears soak Nick's shirt. He'd pay anything to keep Nick with him, to follow him to District 2. Anything to keep the two of them together. This felt like he was having his heart ripped out and he was unsure of how he would survive without his best friend.

"You aren't losing me Jeffie. We'll see each other again. I swear. I'll come back and find you if I have to," Nick reassured, his voice wavering slightly. Truth be told, he had no idea what was going to become of them. He had no idea why his father was being relocated, or why Nick and his mother had to come with him to District 2. All he knew was that he was leaving, and that his best friend would remain here in District 7, a world away.

He drew in a shuttered breath, pulling back from Jeff. "I love you Jeffie. You are my best friend. This isn't goodbye. I could never say goodbye to you. I'll see you soon, I promise." He held up his pinky, a small smile forming. Jeff slowly gave his own smile, linking their pinkies.

"I'm holding you to that Nicky. This is one promise you have to keep." Nick nodded, jumping as the train whistle blew. This was it. He was leaving. He gave Jeff one last hug then stepped back, turning to board the train car. He turned back when he heard Jeff call out his name. The door began closing, Nick barely catching his best friend's final words. "I love you too!" Nick felt a new set of tears roll down his face as the train began to move, his father yanking him by the collar to their seats.

Jeff stood on the station platform for a while longer, almost afraid to move. Maybe if he stayed there long enough, the train would come back. Nick would come off and say plans had changed, that his father said he could stay here and live with Jeff or something. He wiped the tears off his face, closing his eyes as a breeze picked up, the familiar faint scent of burning wood hitting him hard. Nick had always joked that even living here, they'd never get use to that smell; even the faint scent of pine trees that surrounded the district always came second to the smoke. It was going to tough, not tracing every part of his life back to the best friend he has just lost. With a sigh, he turned towards the stairs, praying this wouldn't be as hard as his imagination was making it out to be.

That day followed him for the next three years, forever in the back of his mind. He wrote letters, but never got a response. Never got a phone number to call. Honestly, he wasn't sure if Nick had broken his promise or if there was some outside source, like Nick's father who had never really approved of the two boys being as close as they were, that kept them from communicating. Nonetheless, Jeff lived on, working in the forests surrounding their district with the other teens, loading trucks with lumber to bring extra money into his family's home. It was difficult for the first few months, Jeff missing having someone to turn to. But he made new friends, and soon enough, was able to make it through the day without thinking about his once-upon-a-time best friend.

They had gotten off work earlier today and all the teens headed home around noon to get ready. They'd been through this every year. Go home, put on your best clothes, then meet in the town square. Once there, they were separated by age group and gender, standing in perfect lines as a prerecorded message from President Snow came on, wishing 'Happy Reaping and Happy Hunger Games' with an happy smile as if this were just another day. As if they enjoyed standing there, like lamb waiting to see who would be slaughtered next. The reaping was the most depressing day of the year, parents holding young children who were finally of age to be reaped. The older teens knew to keep a brave face, though many just clung to the hope that they would make it through another year. Jeff, being seventeen, had been through this time and time again, breathing a sigh of relief every year his name wasn't called.

They knew why the Games existed, knew the Capitol only did it to keep the other Districts from rebelling like 13 had done so many years ago. They learned about it in school before they were shipped off to the forest to work. They were told about 13 rebelling against the Capitol, planning its demise. They were told the Capitol only had one choice, to destroy the district before they caused harm to anyone. So one this day, seventy years ago, the Capitol bombed District 13, killing everything and everyone that once lived there. They'd show videos, trying to instill fear in the other Panem citizens at a young age, showing the wasteland that now existed where 13 had once stood. From then on, the Games were set as a reminder. A reminder of the power of the Capitol, the control of the Capitol. They sent in children, pitting them against one another until there was only one left alive. Sometimes it seemed like it was more for Capitol entertainment than to teach the district a lesson. From the bets set to the interviews and the pressure to be the best before the Games even started, those in power seemed to have more fun watching tributes squirm than watching the deaths of innocent children.

Two cameras stood on the corners of the stage, Peacekeepers that had probably arrived on the train earlier that day scattered around the ground. On stage stood a woman who was so obviously from Capitol it hurt. Her bright green hair, golden covered face, and flamboyant clothing gave her away as the wrangler. She was going to be in charge of keeping an eye on whoever was reaped until the day of the game. She introduced herself, Jeff's attention elsewhere. He watched his peers file in, filling the roped-off area. No one really looked excited, though he imagined the Capitol citizens watching on the other side of those cameras on the stage were having a joyous time. They were off in the safety that was the Capitol, eating whatever food their personal chefs had made, sitting on overstuffed couches, and laughing as those who lived lesser lives waited for a piece of paper to decide their destiny.

His name was in the pot a few times, having applied for tesserae a few times when his family needed the extra food to get by. If his count was right, his name was in that bowl around seventeen or eighteen times. But there were those whose names were in thirty times, some of the older teens up to forty times depending on their situation. It gave Jeff hope, only two more years and he would be free. His chances of getting by were good; thousands of children, slim chances for that slip of paper to hold his name. He saw his brother standing with his parents, the grimace on his face clear as he watched from behind the ropes. He was only eleven, no worry of being reaped yet. He was safe, for now.

Jeff leaned on the balls of his feet as the alarm rang, signaling it was time to begin. The Capitol representative on stage smiled, unfazed by the pain she was about to cause so many. "Ladies first," she said, her voice chipper as she reached into the giant glass bowl on her right side. There was silence as she pulled out a slip, the air so tense you could cut it with a knife. Or a chain saw. Whichever was more readily available. "And your female tribute will be… Miss Tina Cohen-Chang!" There was a sharp intake of breath, a faint whimper, and the shuffle of feet as the girls moved around.

Jeff knew the girl from school, a year or two under him. He'd never had a conversation with her or anything, but he had been aware of her existence. She kept a stiff upper lip as she made her way past her peers, up to the stage with two Peacekeepers behind her if she decided to make a run for it. She didn't seem like the type though. A girl in one of the younger age groups began to cry quietly, Tina passing her sad look. Based on that and their similar appearance, Jeff guessed they might be sisters.

No one made a move to volunteer to take her spot. Why would they? Who would willingly lay down their life for someone they barely knew? The only time people ever volunteered anymore was in the higher districts where Career tributes basically fought to get into the Games. Training children for the Games was illegal, the Capitol believing tributes should have to rely on born skills or skills acquired through work to win. But in Districts 1, 2, and 4, children were raised differently. They learned how to wield weapons, learned how to fight, how to kill. Because those districts were in the Capitol's good graces, they were never reprimanded for their tributes' knowledge.

In effect, winners usually came from those districts. And if not from there, one of the other districts closer to Capitol. The back six districts got the short end of the stick, teens working at young ages to support families in poor districts. District 7 had been the home of three winners in the pasted, only two of which were still alive. Those two lived in the winner's village every district was required to have. They sat towards the back of the stage, watching the events unfold with bored looks. Witmate and Partante. Their names were known to everyone in the district, both generally staying away from the rest of the citizens. Witmate won nearly twenty years ago, when he was eighteen. Partante was a bit older, having won her game forty eight years ago when she was sixteen. They were going to be in charge of preparing District 7's tributes for their own Games, a job they had taken on every year since their wins.

Tina took her spot on stage next to the wrangler, and everyone held their breath again. "And now for the gentlemen." She swept her gaze over the boys and reached into the glass bowl to her left. _Two more years and I'm free, _Jeff thought, balling his hands into fists at his sides. _I've made it through five years, I can make it through two more_. Time seemed to slow as the woman lifted out the slip, one white piece of paper that held the fate of one more child of District 7.

"And our male tribute… Mr. Jeffery Sterling!" It didn't really hit him at first. Jeff stood there, blood pounding in his ears as people began to shuffle around him. Thad, a boy from work, let out a sigh of relief beside him, then looked over at Jeff apologetically. He couldn't blame him; he had done the same these last five years. Someone finally pushed him forward, out in front of the other two Peacekeepers. Jeff straightened his back, walking confidently up to the stage.

He tried to put on an air of strength, though inside all he could think about was going into that arena and dying. He saw the faces of the children who had gone and died before him, none able to stand up to the career tributes from Districts 1, 2, or 4, or the larger tributes from 10 and 11. He walked on stage and stood next to Tina, her eyes going to his, her fear evident as they both faced the crowd.

"We have our District 7 tributes for the 69th annual Hunger Games!" the wrangler yelled into the microphone, her name still escaping Jeff completely. "Wish these two luck and may the odds be ever in your favor!" With that, the alarm sounded again and those who were spared began to move. Jeff and Tina remained on stage, knowing what was going to come next.

They were ushered into the District's courthouse, each taken to separate rooms for their final goodbyes to their loved ones. If Jeff had close friends he might have expected them to come. But all he had were co-workers and his family. He sat in the room for what felt like forever until his mother came rushing through the door, his brother following after her. The two of them clutched onto Jeff, their tears seeping in through his button down shirt. His father stood closer to the door, his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"You guys will be okay," Jeff said quietly as his mother and brother pulled back. He looked at Jason, taking in his brother's features for a moment, his thin frame and blond hair, before placing his hand on the boys shoulder. "You have to help Dad take care of Mom, Jase. You are the man of the house when Dad's not around." Jason nodded, trying to keep a brave face but failing miserably.

"You have to come back Jeff. You have too." Tears streamed down his brother's face as the boy hugged him, his face buried in Jeff's chest.

"I'll do my best." He looked from his mother to his father, the man taking a step forward as Jeff forced Jason off. His eyes were shining with the tears he knew the man would never shed. They were the strong ones, his father having to take care of his mother and brother once they took Jeff off to Capitol. In his eyes though, the raw pain he was feeling was evident.

"You do us proud, you hear?" His father's deep voice also conveyed the emotions the man was trying so desperately to hide. He felt his father pull him into an unexpected hug, the man never one for displays of affection. "You can win. I know it," he muttered into his son's hair, pulling back to give him a stern look. He nodded before fully releasing the boy. His mother pulled him into another tight embrace before there was a knock at the door. "Come Jeffery! It's time to go!" The wrangler, whose name was Betrizz as Jeff had learned, sang through the door. How could anyone be so happy on a day like this? Were these Capitol citizens immune to any real emotion?

He gave a final sigh and looked at his family. "I love you guys. Root for me, okay?" His mother nodded before breaking down, crying into his father side. His brother pulled a dog tag out of his pocket, a simple 7 pressed into the metal.

"In school they told us you can bring in a token. Take this one," the boy muttered, handing the necklace over. Jeff nodded, slipping it into his pocket before hugging his brother briefly then heading for the door. He muttered a quiet goodbye as he exited the room, running into the Peacekeepers there. Tina stood by Betrizz, her eyes red and puffy. _Behind closed doors, the brave often fall, _he thought, giving her a tightlipped smile as they were led down the hall and out to car waiting for them. Partante and Witmate were already in the car, still looking as bored has they had at the reaping.

Betrizz blathered on about how honored they should be, representing their district. Jeff did his best to block her out, watching the tops of the trees rush by over the tops of the buildings as they made their way to the train station. It wasn't until they stepped onto the platform, the cameras having followed them, now tracking their every move for the viewers at home, that it hit him. The last time he had been here was when he had said goodbye to Nick. Nick, his best friend. Nick, who he had yet to see being reaped in District 2. Nick, who he prayed had not suffered the same fate as Jeff.

He realized, with the swish of the train door closing behind him, the Peacekeepers directing them to their car, this was it. He was either going to die or have eternal glory with the deaths of others on his hands. With that thought he solemnly said, "Let the Games begin."


	2. Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2. I'll try to get chapter 3 up by next Saturday, preferably sooner but you never know.

Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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><p>The train moved silently along the tracks as Jeff and Tina were ushered to their separate cars, Witmate following after Jeff while Partante went off with Tina. The cars were carpeted, surfaces metallic and pristine. Though Jeff had showered this morning, he was aware of the smell of smoke that forever clung to the clothes and bodies of the citizens of District 7, with just the fainted scent of the pines that distinguished their district.<p>

But it was distracting, being able to smell what made defined you while surrounded by all this clean perfection. It was like that for most districts, he imagined. Citizens of 12 smelling like coal, while the citizens of 4 probably smelt like fish. Well the poor ones, the richer citizens might have their own perfume, with some ironic name like 'Ocean Breeze', that smelled nothing like the salt-soaked winds the district was famous for.

Witmate opened the door to Jeff's room, then stepped back to allow the boy to enter. "Dinner will be in a few hours. I'd suggest staying here, resting up. Shower and change into whatever they left you in the closet. Someone will be sent to get you when it's time to end." Witmate's voice was rough, cracked from years of smoking; a habit he had picked up after his game. He'd often been seen with a cigarette between his lips.

Jeff was slightly surprised he hadn't noticed the man's trademark was missing sooner. The older man nodded towards the room and Jeff stepped fully inside before Witmate shut the door behind him. _They're trainers, not babysitters,_ he thought with a quiet sigh. _They don't care about us. They only want one of us to win so they don't have to do this job anymore._

Jeff ran his hand over the wall, looking for a switch to turn on the light. It turned out the train was too modern for switches, a sensor lighting up the room as his hand grazed over it. The room was huge, a queen sized bed taking up a majority of the opposing side of the room, covered in a dark blue comforter and some twenty-odd pillows. There was a dresser, a side table with a phone on it, and two other doors.

Assuming one was the closet and the other was the bathroom, he walked over to the nearest one and pulled it open slowly. It was dark and Jeff quickly found the light sensor, only to be blinded as artificial lights flooded this room as well. His assumptions were correct; he'd walked into the bathroom.

Inside he found it was as clean and perfect as the rest of what he had seen. The white and cream tiles on the floors and walls bounced light around, illuminating every corner of the room. There was a large bathtub, shower head on the ceiling, directly in the center of the tub. The sink had a variety of soaps and shampoos, along with towels and the necessary toiletries they would need for the two or three days they would be on the train. Tributes never brought things from home with them to the Games other than a token. The token.

Jeff went into his pocket and pulled the dog tag Jason had given him, finally giving himself a chance to get a closer look. He'd heard of the other tokens other had held over the years, pins and necklaces or some other identifier that held some special meaning. The only rule with tokens was that they had to be small and could not be used against other tributes once inside the arena. He'd heard of people trying to sneak in weapons as tokens, those usually getting confiscated within hours of arriving in the Capitol.

He flipped the little piece of metal over in his hand, smiling as he finally recognized it. It was a present their father had given Jason during one of their poorer holiday seasons. One of those 'don't forget where you come from' presents. Jason had loved it though, likening it to the necklaces they saw soldiers wearing in their textbooks.

The front just had a large '7' engraved into the medal, the back holding the motto of the games. "May the odds be ever in your favor," he muttered quietly, shaking his head "Yeah, the odds are definitely on my side." His voice dripped with sarcasm as he set the necklace on the sink counter and walked back into the room.

Quickly removing his shoes and clothes, he folded them neatly on the dresser. He found towels in the closet, along with several articles of clothing. How they knew his size, he had no idea. Never question the power and knowledge of the Capitol. Another lesson that was instilled in them early in life.

He grabbed a towel and headed back to the bathroom, turning on the water and giving it a minute to warm up. After a moment of thought, he picked up a matching set of bottles holding honey scented shampoo and conditioner, along with a bar of soap.

Stepping in, he let out a relieved breath as the hot water fell on him, sliding down his back as his muscles relaxed. This was nice. It almost felt like rain rather than having water pumped directly into his face like the showers back home. Part of him was tempted to take a bath, a luxury they lacked in District 7. Not tonight. Maybe tomorrow.

Breathing in the steam around him, Jeff allowed himself a few minutes free of thought. A few minutes to just stand under the hot spray, his body warming up and melting under the comfortable heat. He washed his hair, enjoying the smell of honey as it engulfed him. Taking extra time with the soap, he scrubbed his body clean, hoping to wash off seventeen years of pine trees and burning wood.

It wasn't until his skin was starting to turn red that he stopped, letting the water rinse him off before spending another ten minutes just letting the water wash over him. He'd be surprised that the hot water didn't run out, but the Capitol worked in mysterious way to keep everyone happy. And heaven knows they wanted to keep the wranglers and workers comfortable.

He doubted they really cared about the teenagers they were about to kill. He turned off the water and grabbed his towel, patting himself dry before attacking his hair to get it dry. A fan turned on overhead, sucking the steam out of the room, the mirror clearing so Jeff could see himself.

His blond hair was still wet, hanging in his face in strands. His arms and torso were dark than the rest of him, a forest's tan from endless hours at work. He was muscular enough, not overly so like the guys who spent their days lifting the trees into trucks. He spent most of his days climbing up the trees, getting rid of the bigger branches before the big guns came in to clear the land. That had left with him with strong legs and a firmer core, his lithe body nowhere near as 'lanky' as it had been in his earlier years. He'd grown into his body, as his father had said. Yeah, he grew into all 6 feet of himself.

Wrapping the towel around his waist, he walked back out to the closet. Inside he found a few nice button down shirts, a few good pairs of pants, ties, and two pairs of shoes. He questioned why he'd have to dress nicely if they were only going to be among themselves. Upon further investigation, he found t-shirts and jeans in the drawers, along with briefs and boxers. Guess they didn't know everything about him.

He decided on boxers, a green button down and jeans. Let them yell at him if they wanted, he was going to be comfortable. Not knowing how much longer he had until dinner, he considered exploring the rest of the train car, then remembered what Witmate said. Fine, he'd stay in the room. But he was not going to just sit around.

After drying his hair, he explored the room. He learned how to work the light sensors to dim and brighten the room, found a book in the drawer of the bedside table that contained numbers for different services on the train, along with the numbers to Betrizz, Witmate and Partante if he needed one of them. He wondered if the phone could call off the train, but doubted it. Plus, who would he call? His family? They had been through enough. It was better not to talk to them again. Maybe it would make losing him hurt less.

With a sigh he fell back on the bed, which felt as overstuffed as he imagined it would be. Sleeping on it would not be easy. He stared up at the ceiling, still waiting for everything to crash down on him. He wasn't holding back his emotions, but they never came. He still felt numb. Which, again, was probably better for his sanity. Emotions would cloud his judgment. They would make him hesitate, might even get him killed. No, it was better to stay numb. He let his eyes drift shut, imagining jumping around the treetops back home.

He must have drifted off to sleep, as he was woken up by a knock on the door. "Coming," he muttered loudly, getting up and smoothing out his shirt. A young girl stood on the other side of the door, her head bowed slightly. _Avox_. The word rang out through his head. They were servants of the Capitol, usually criminals or rebels. They could not talk; their tongues were cut out of their mouths as punishments. The girl gestured for her to follow him, leading him down the hall to the next car.

Another hall led them into what looked to be a small studio apartment. Off one side was a table set with plates, glasses, silverware, and the beginnings of a meal. And on the other side, a large couch in front of a large screen. Betrizz and Witmate sat at the table, looking over at Jeff for a moment as he entered, before going back to their conversation. Feeling out of place, he took his seat and looked around, taking the room in.

Partante walked in with Tina a few minutes later, the girl showered as well, wearing a maroon dress that cut off above her knees. As she passed, Jeff caught the faint scent of roses. While he could appreciate how she good looked, it did nothing for him. Girls in general didn't really do anything for him, but that was a topic he had stayed away from when he realized it. In District 7, men were tough. Being gay set any guy up as a target for attack, and Jeff was just trying to get by.

Once everyone was seated, two more Avoxes wheeled out carts of food. They made their way around the table, offering up lamb or chicken, a variety of sides, and whatever beverage they could come up with. The food was a little overwhelming; neither Jeff nor Tina were used to anything with so much flavor or spice. They took their time, eating slowly, meticulously.

Betrizz noticed this and smiled. "It's nice to see that you two have manners. I've heard horror stories from the other wranglers about tributes who ate like they had never had an etiquette lesson in their lives. Hand in their food, chewing with mouths wide open. Barbaric." She sipped her wine daintily, watching the two of them for a response.

Tina nodded, chewing the bite of food that was in her mouth before swallowing and speaking. "If there is one thing our parents make it a point to teach us, it's manners." Her words were almost robotic, her voice hollow. She was numb as well, cutting off her emotions that same way Jeff was. The wrangler had struck a chord but he said nothing, merely focusing on the food as Betrizz spoke again.

"That's all well and good, dear," she began, moving her napkin to her lap and straightening her posture. "Once we are done eating, we will watch the reaping ceremonies for the other districts. It will take us two days to get to Capitol, that time can be used by your mentors to prepare you however they see fit." Both mentors nodded from their seats, Partante speaking up this time, her voice aged but not nearly as rough as her counterparts.

"We have the files of the other tributes, and videos of past Games. We can study those, find your strengths, and figure out the best way to approach what you do in the Capitol. But for now, we will eat. No point in putting you two through more stress tonight. I'm sure today has been very draining." With that, they went back to eating in silence, Avoxes surrounding the room, watching warily. After three courses of overly spiced or overly sweet foods, Jeff was stuffed. It was good, he would give the chefs that much. But it was overpowering.

The table was cleared, dishes clinking as the servants removed plates of half eaten food. Part of Jeff wondered what would be done with the food. Would it be thrown away? Probably. With the amount of food available to them tonight, he could have fed his family for two weeks, and now all that was going to go to waste. It disgusted him to think that these people lived in such luxury on a daily basis while those in the poorer districts struggled to get by. Every day, they had to fight for work or money to live. And at the same time Capitol citizens sat back, getting fat on food they could live without.

The group moved to the couch, Betrizz in the middle, a mentor on each side, and Jeff and Tina on opposite sides. Tina pulled her knees under her while Jeff sat with his legs crossed on the cushion.

"Let's begin!" Betrizz said excitedly, grabbing the remote from a nearby Avox and pressing play. Onscreen, the entirety of District 1's population stood in an arena, teens in the middle as adults watched from the stands. The tributes surprised him; they showed little fear. Some of the bigger ones, the Careers, looked almost cocky. He'd heard about them fighting for who was put in the Games, but this was ridiculous. How could anyone look forward to being put in the middle of a death match?

Honestly, it held little interest to him. He'd meet the other tributes when they began training. The Capitol would never just send kids into kill each other. They had to introduce them first, allow them time to bond. To form teams and alliances, which meant more entertainment for the citizens at home. They would send the kids to survival training, along with weapons training, never chancing that kids would die without good cause. Besides, the audience was always more entertained with murder rather than someone freezing to death.

Jeff zoned out, his eyes on the screen but his mind elsewhere. Not really elsewhere, just unfocused. He didn't want to think right now. He wanted sleep. All he had to do was get through this, pretend he cared for now, then he could head off to a peaceful oblivion. At least until he had to wake up and relive this nightmare every day until they were sent into the arena.

Betrizz offered her comments as tributes volunteered, the richer districts having come up with ways of dealing with multiple volunteers. Smaller, weaker districts never had that problem. You couldn't pay someone to volunteer the farther out you went.

"He's huge…" Tina muttered as the male tribute from District 1 was finally chosen, the male standing on stage, his stance confident and his grin splitting his face in half. She was right, he was huge. Bulky and muscular, Jeff knew that if he was forced to combat someone like him in hand-to-hand, he would get his ass handed to him.

They moved on to District 2, Tina posed in her seat as the camera repeated its panning to show all the possible tributes. Again, the teens stood straight, clearly not worried about their fate. The girls went first, only four attempting to volunteer for the one who was called. Too bad for them, she accepted her role, her strides quick as she made her way to the stage.

Jeff fought the urge to sigh, his mind berating the entire situation. At least once they got to the later Districts, he'd see people who reacted the same way he had. Fear, shock, discomfort. Something other than overbearing confidence that made him question the sanity of these citizens.

The males' turn now. He watched, his expression bored. A name was pulled, one of the absurd names that the richer felt adamant to torment their children with. One voice volunteered, another followed. Then it happens.

Someone could have punched him in the gut; that would have been so much more surprising and much less painful than the voice he heard yell out. A voice he hadn't heard in four years. A voice he never thought he'd hear again.

The scene had his full attention as Nick stepped forward. His brown hair and dark eyes were the same as the camera passed by. He looked taller, older. He wasn't the same, lanky, newly teenaged boy. _Guess they even put the new kids though training, _he thought bitterly. Gone was his best friend. Gone was the boy he thought he could not live without. Now stood a man with the same air of confidence as everyone else around him.

Jeff watched as they went through the tribute process with the boys after the one who had been drawn bowed out. _Please not him, anyone but him_, he prayed, shaking his head slightly when he noticed Witmate watching him from the corner of his eyes. The mentor did not need to know that Jeff had a personal connection. God knows the advice he would receive if his mentor caught on.

After a moment, the decision was made. And Jeff felt his heart fall into his stomach as Nick made his way up to the stage. It almost hurt to breath, a million thoughts running through his head as Nick took his place next to the female tribute.

_Just don't let me be the one to hurt you… _he nearly muttered, praying to whatever sick deity controlled their lives. If he thought losing his best friend was hard, killing Nick would end up killing Jeff as well.

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><p>Chapter 3 will probably be more train scene. We will get to Capitol in chapter 4 and I have a few plans for Niff when they get there. Stick around to find out what.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry it took so long to update. The joys of a small fanbase is I don't have people asking for updates and I got kinda slack on writing.

I'll try to keep updates a little more regular in the future.

For now, here's chapter 3. Enjoy!

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><p>"So what are your talents?" Witmate started, sitting on the couch in front of both Jeff and Tina. His hands were folded, covering his mouth as his elbows rested on his knees. Partante sat next to him, her stance a little more relaxed as she watched the teens with a careful eye, gauging for their reactions.<p>

Jeff would have complained of it being too early, but having woken up before dawn every day for his entire life, the early hour had little effect on him. Tina hadn't complained either, having gotten to breakfast before him. They had finished watching the reapings last night and the mentors had decided it was best to talk more in the morning. Jeff had spent half the night awake, memories from his childhood – from his time with Nick – clouding his thoughts.

Seeing Nick's face made it real. His best friend was alive and well. He had moved on, much like Jeff had. He wondered what Nick thought when he saw Jeff's reaping. Was he in the same state of shock? Or did he even remember who Jeff was? It had taking a few hours of trying to clear his mind before he had fallen into a fitful slumber.

Now they stood in front of the mentors again, the steady hum of the train moving under their feet the only real reminder that they were in constant motion. From inside the cars everything felt stationary, which should have been expected from a Capitol vehicle. Wouldn't want to jostle the rich and famous.

Jeff listened as Witmate began to drill them. "What can you go in with that will keep you alive? What can you do to get you sponsors, to make the Gamemakers favor you, notice you? Can you fight? Can you take down a bull with your bare hands? Are you handy with a sword or axe?" His questions ran together, his eyes tight and unforgiving.

"Agility." Jeff stated simply, knowing he would have to be the first to talk. Tina's eyes still held the fear they had adopted yesterday. There was always one like her in the Games. Someone who always looked afraid, someone who sponsors would vie for with sympathy, but would end up dying the first night. As much as he hated to admit it, Tina was a strong contender for that spot. The other tributes hadn't shown anywhere near as much fear at any of the other reapings.

"I spend most of my days up in the trees, jumping from tree to tree, branch to branch. I can climb, I'm fast and I can generally conceal myself well." His tone was even, not bragging, merely stating facts about himself. "I can fight too, to an extent. My father made it a point to teach me hand to hand after I started getting picked on at school. I can take down guys half my size and keep them down." He thought back to the District One tribute, the huge blond, and wondered. Could he take down someone_ that_ big?

"Good. " His mentors nodded, switching their gazes over to Tina without any more comments. "What about you? They send kids to work early in 7, where were you sent? Into the woods?" Tina shook her head slowly.

"I worked with my mother in the daycare. The best I can do is catch and corral kids. I doubt that will do me any good in the arena though." She shrugged, trying her best to hide how defeated she felt and failing miserably. Jeff couldn't take pity on her – one less person for him to compete with. If she was an easy kill, that was one less person to worry about.

Jeff realized what he was thinking and scolded himself. _You are not a career. You have emotions. You are not going to start picking people off before the Games even begin._ He felt like that was going to become a mantra, the one thing to keep him grounded when everything hit the fan.

Partante sucked her teeth, drawing his attention back. "Don't say that. Reflexes. Working in the daycare, you would have honed your reflexes. You'll be able to catch things before others, you'll be able to see people coming and going when they think they are hidden. It'll help. When you guys are training, focus on your fighting. Learn how to use a weapon."

"I've never fought before. I've never even held a weapon. Or anything remotely dangerous," Tina confessed, wringing her hands.

"You'll learn, or you'll die. Simple as that." Partante shrugged, leaning back to look at the two of them. "We also have to figure out an angle to play with the two of you. Tina's got the scared, innocent girl act down pat. That might get her sympathy."

Jeff smirked, more to himself, glad to know he knew the Gamemakers well enough to take a guess at what they would think of the others. He had thoughts on the other tributes, ideas of the different angles they would go for. It was all about impressions. Make the right ones and you live a little longer in the arena.

"You," Partante started, looking back at Jeff "Are harder to read. You aren't afraid, but you aren't overly cocky like the careers. Do you have any connection to the Games? Lost a sibling in an earlier one, a mentor, your best friend? Something?"

Tina began to open her mouth but Jeff shot her a death glare that held so much promise, the girl could practically feel the knife at her throat. _So she knows, _he thought as she closed her mouth.

"No. Nothing like that. I haven't really even been close to any of the prior tributes. And my brother was too young to be reaped, so I'm the only one from my family." The mentors took that in, either missing or ignoring the look Jeff had given his fellow tribute.

"We will talk to your stylists once we get to the Capitol; they might be able to give us more to work with. But you can never go in just as you. Another boring tribute with no personality is not what the Gamemakers and the citizens want. This is entertainment before anything else. They want to become emotionally attached. That's where the bids and support come from."

Witmate stood, going over to the kitchen area to grab one of the water bottles they kept chilled. He moved to the window, opening it and pulling out a cigarette. One of the Avoxes that was standing by the door silently stepped forward, shaking her head.

"What are you gonna do? _Tell_ someone I'm breaking a rule?" The Avox frowned, but walked back to her post, her eyes expressing all the hatred and other emotions she was clearly holding back. Jeff couldn't really blame her, considering Witmate had just thrown her disability in her face. She had a sweet face; Jeff wondered what she had done to deserve this punishment.

"Par, where is that wrangler?" Witmate asked, lighting up his cigarette and inhaling deeply, blowing his smoke out the window.

"Probably getting her 'beauty sleep'. We don't need her for this. God knows, her voice makes me want to take an axe to her head." It was so odd to see the older woman talk so harshly. Tina and Jeff exchanged a look and shrugged.

"So what are we doing? How long until we get to the Capitol?" Jeff looked out the car window, the land giving no indication of where they were.

"Sometime late tonight. The plan for today is to watch videos from the past Games, so you two can get an idea of how it works. No doubt you've watched the Games over the years, but we can show you things from farther back. Watching might spark something in you; a game plan, if you will." Witmate shrugged, taking a drag from the cigarette.

He continued, "I need complete honesty out of the two of you. I can't help you otherwise. I also need the two of you to listen to Par and I. We'll keep you from doing something stupid."

"Stupid how?" Tina asked, looking between the two mentors.

"Like interrupting when someone is talking." Witmate snapped "Things like giving away your skills during training, saying the wrong thing during the interviews, or doing something inside the Game that will get you killed. We are your life lines. We, and your stylists, are the things that will get you sponsors and teach you how to stay alive. "

Partante nodded, interjecting. "Just don't argue with us. We have been through this so many times with so many other tributes; we know what we are doing."

Jeff couldn't help but mutter "If you knew what you were doing, 7 would have had more winners by now." If the mentors caught him, they chose to ignore his comment. Witmate finished his cigarette and threw the butt of the window before returning to the couch.

"Cop a squat, you two. You're in for a long day." The tributes nodded, sitting in the same spots they had last night. Partante turned out a remote, pressing play as the screen came to life. Witmate explained they would start with the 50th Games, a Quarter Quell where they took four tributes from each district instead of two.

Jeff did his best to pay attention while Tina took notes on the other side of the couch and Partante pointed out the winners of each of the Games when they started so the tributes would know what to watch for. Jeff took mental notes, things like 'Don't stay in the Cornucopia unless you know you can get out alive', 'stay hidden', 'good actions get rewarded by sponsors' and 'if the Games get boring, the Gamemakers will end up killing someone or lead them to their death'.

Honestly, his mind was still on Nick. Was he being prepped like this as well? Was he worried at all? What kind of training did he go through in District 2? Thoughts floated around his head as he watched countless numbers of teenagers kill each other in various arenas.

_I should be more worried about covering my own ass,_ he thought. What if they put them in a desert or someplace snowy? What if they had to swim right off the bat or there were limited supplies in the arena? What if none of the packs offered an axe or something he knew how to fight with? What if he didn't make it past the first night…?

They watched videos late into the night, Tina nodding off for a little bit before Partante nudged her back into consciousness. Betrizz had been missing for most of the day, only joining them for lunch and dinner before promptly disappearing again. They didn't question her absence, happy to be rid of her and her overly chipper attitude for the most part.

By almost ten o'clock most of them had grown weary of watching the past Games so the mentors sent the tributes off to their rooms. Witmate reminded them that they should arrive at Capitol in the next few hours, so they could nap but should expect to be woken up.

It wasn't until they were out of the mentors' ear shot, in the bedroom cars, before Jeff grabbed Tina's arm and pulled her to a stop. The girl looked panicked for a moment but quickly wiped the surprise off her face.

"Don't mention my relationship with Nick to either of them." His voice was low, laced with a promise of violence if she didn't respond correctly.

"Mention what? That the guy you used to be best friends with is a career? I wasn't friends with you back then, but you had to have a tree fall on your head to not notice what was going on between the two of you." Tina's eyes narrowed. "You realize that he is your weakness in this. I saw how you reacted when he got up on stage. Are you going to be able to kill him if it comes to that?"

Jeff all but growled at her, "You don't know anything. Let me handle my business. Don't tell Wit or Par or the stylists anything, not even in passing. I know we have to act all friendly for the cameras out there, but if you say anything, I'll make sure you are one of the first ones to die in the arena."

Jeff knew he was going to regret his words, but he needed to get his point across. If anyone knew about his past relations with Nick it would fuck up any plans he had once they were in the arena. He needed the ignorance of everyone if he was going to pull off what he wanted to do.

With a final glare he released his grip on Tina's arm, the girl stumbling back slightly. She said nothing as she returned his glare and made her way down the narrow hall to her room. Jeff went to his, stripping down to his boxers before crawling into bed.

He knew he needed sleep. They had been warned that tomorrow they would go to the Remake Center for prepping – then the Opening Ceremony. Tomorrow would one of those 'beginning of the end' types of things, and it would probably be best to get some sleep before that happened.

Though he wasn't sure when, Jeff must have fallen asleep as he jumped awake when he heard knocking on the door. He pulled on a shirt and stumbled over to open the metal slab, shielding his eyes as the bright lights of the Capital assaulted his vision. According to the clock on the night stand, it was nearly one in the morning. Why was the city still awake?

An Avox appeared, gesturing for him to get dressed and follow after her. Jeff pulled on clothes quickly, walking behind the girl to the main car. Witmate, Partante and Tina were already there, standing near the couches again.

"You two ready for your first appearance in Capital? There are citizens outside just waiting for a glance at you before the cameras get you tomorrow." Partante was the one to start this time. "Just smile and don't look at anyone directly as we make our way to the tower. It should take all of two minutes. And the crowd won't be nearly as large due to the time."

The mentors led them to the next car up, the doors sliding open silently as voices attacked from outside the train. They were ushered into the tower quickly, Jeff only catching a glimpse of the citizens before they were inside. But a glimpse was all he needed to know the rumors were true.

If the forty or so people he just saw were any indication of everyone who lived in this city, the population was loonier than anything they had imagined back home. The colors, the hair, the colors, Jeff felt like he has walked into what his history books had called a circus.

Once inside the lobby of the tribute tower, the mentors led the two of them to an elevator, not giving them the chance to really look around. Once the doors shut and they began to ascend, Partante let out a relieved breath as Witmate chuckled.

"That was painless. We had to rush you guys. Didn't want anything to happen." Witmate leaned against the wall. "Each district has its own floor. You two, Par and I, and the stylists will all be on floor seven. You guys are not to be seen on any of the other floors."

Tina passed Jeff a look, earning herself a tired glare in return as Witmate started up again. "You two can go to sleep for now. We will wake you up for breakfast, then it's over to the Remake Centre. With the last few districts not getting in until the morning, they want to start fixing you all up at the same time. You'll meet with your stylists at breakfast."

The doors dinged, then opened. The group stepped onto the carpeted floor, the walls a light green color with windows that revealed the skyline of the Capitol. Jeff couldn't suppress the 'woah' that came from his lips.

Yeah, okay. Now he could see why everyone always spoke so highly of the Capitol. The streets were lit up, people the size of ants meandering along the streets. The city was beautiful, to say the least.

"Get going. We will get you later." Jeff watched three Avoxes appear, each gesturing for a part of their party to follow. Jeff was lead down a hall with Tina, his room a few doors up from her.

Once alone again, he sighed and flung himself on the bed. He was exhausted, letting sleep take him over again. Tomorrow was going to be a long day; sleep would be mandatory, even if the makeup artists and stylists could make him look like he had slept for a thousand years.

He wiggled out of his clothes and moved under the blankets, feeling his body drift back into sleep as his mind went to one thing. He would see Nick tomorrow. And the thought scared him to death.

* * *

><p>Spoilers for next chapter: Reunited and I won't say it feels completely good.<p>

See you soon.


	4. Chapter 4

This is my longest chapter yet. And with this, I'm breaking 10k words overall. So celebration!

And I think you guys will like the end of this chapter. Please enjoy!

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><p>Jeff wasn't sure how long he had been asleep, his unconsciousness lacking their usual dreams. He felt rested enough as he sat up in the cushy bed he barely remembered crawling into last night. The clock on the bed side table told him it was almost ten in the morning.<p>

The interviews weren't until later in the week. The opening ceremony would start around sunset tonight, chariots filled with tributes wheeling into the center of the Capitol, stylists having prepped tributes to perfection in order to attract sponsors.

He got dressed, taking a shower first although he wondered if the stylists would shower him when they got a hold of him. He'd heard prep team horror stories, the plucking and scrubbing and make up that went into looking perfect for all of Panem.

Walking out the room, he saw no one in the hall. The smell of food; sweet, spicy, and a variety of other aromas hit him all at once as he stepped fully into the hallway. Following it landed him in the common room, much bigger than the one on the train.

The ceiling was higher, the floor plan more spread out. There was a table covered in breakfast foods on one side of the room while the living area was connected by a few steps and an open door way. He saw the top of a head over the back of the couch as the large TV screen showed a message from President Snow.

Jeff piled a plate full of food, covering it in almost one of everything the table had to offer. Different varieties of meats and eggs, pancakes and waffles – all food that his family would never be able to afford back home. If he was going to fight to the death, he was going to stuff himself now so he would have a little more meat on his bones in the arena.

Tina turned to look at him as he rounded the couch, fork already in his mouth.

"I see you aren't wasting any time," she muttered, scooting over to make room on the couch that could probably fit twenty. The two and a half feet she moved really didn't make a difference, but he appreciated the gesture.

Sitting next to her, they watched the message in silence. Well, silence other than the sound of Jeff's loud chewing. Snow was going on about the Dark Days, the importance of the Games, how excited he was for the games to begin and the high hopes he had for the tributes his year.

His smile was crooked at best when he signed off, his eyes shiny with intent that Jeff couldn't place. No one really trusted Snow. Or any of the Presidents before him. Behind closed doors and away from the ears of the Peacekeepers, most citizens of Panem wished death upon Snow's head - though they would never act on those thoughts. The only thing that would result would be their own death.

"May the odds be ever in your favor," Tina mocked as the screen switched to the symbol of Panem "He's so full of it." Jeff strained to hear the last bit, knowing Tina meant to be quiet with it. The Avoxes in the room were loyal to Panem and would be quick to report anything they heard.

"Do you have a plan once we're in the arena? Anything you're keeping from me?" Jeff asked, watching Tina's face for a reaction of any sort. He placed his now-empty plate on the carpeted floor under his feet, pulling his legs up to sit cross legged.

"No. I honestly never thought I would get reaped. I only had two more years to make it through. Two more years and I'd never have to be part of a reaping ever again. I don't have a plan other than to try my best to stay alive."

She sighed, moving her body to look at Jeff fully. "We should team up. At least for the first few nights so I can make it past the first half of the deaths. Then we can break up any alliance we have with each other. Hell, you can be the one to kill me if you want."

"You and I both know I can't be the one to kill you. How would I go back to 7 after they all see me kill you? I'll try my best to protect you Tina. But know that my safety is first. If it's you or me, I'm picking me. No offense." He shrugged, being as honest as possible. He wasn't going to save her if it would mean his life. He had family to get back to the same way she did.

"Same. If it's you or me, I'm saving my own life first. But I promise not to be the one to kill you either," Tina nodded, leaning back on the couch cushions.

"TRIBUTES!" Witmate yelled as he entered the room, Partante walking slowly behind him. "Big day! First real public appearances. Makeovers. And exposure to all of Panem. We have a few hints before you are taken over by your stylist." The two stood in front of them and listed off things to remember for the interviews.

Things like 'confidence is key', 'never sound like you are questioning the Capitol', 'pick a personality and work it', and 'for the love of all that is holy, smile' stood out during their ranting. Jeff and Tina nodded, both turning when the elevator doors dinged.

Two people walked out, both dressed in what could only be described as 'Capitol Attire'. The blonde female worn a dress covered in colors ranging from purple to blue to green, that puffed out just above her knees. Her face was covered in the same colors, her eyes as bright as her hair as she smiled and walked over. The male followed behind, his outfit toned down, but only by Capitol standards.

The blonde came over to Jeff before got a chance to get a better look at the male's complete outfit, only catching the mix of green and orange as the man went to Tina.

"Hi Jeff, my name's April. I'll be your stylist and head of your prep team. I'm sure your mentors have told you what I'm here to do," she said, shooting Witmate a less-than-friendly look before smiling at Jeff again. He caught the look, wondering about the story behind it but saying nothing. He should probably be worried that she knew his name without introduction, but with Capitol it was hard to be surprised.

"William is Tina's head stylist, so you will probably be seeing a lot of him too. Well, let's go get you kids pretty." April wasn't as hyper active as Jeff would have guessed her to be. The clothes made him think she would sound like a five year old when she spoke. He was pleasantly surprised at her subdued tone. William said something quietly to Tina, the girl nodding before they piled into the elevator.

"Are we going to see the other tributes?" Jeff kept his tone even, not wanting to hint at the purpose of the question. He wanted it to seem like one of those 'Oh, I'm just curious' kind of things that pop up in conversation.

"Oh no, not until the ceremony tonight. You'll have a few minutes before the parade starts, though you won't get the chance to talk to the others until training tomorrow," April smiled, then began going over what the plan was for the day.

They went down below the ground floor, the B on the elevator controls blinking as the doors slid open. Jeff and Tina were escorted into the hall, turning left to walk down the metallic halls. They went their separate ways down the hall, Tina giving her fellow tribute a short look before her stylist put his arm around her and led her elsewhere.

April opened a door and Jeff noticed a few people walking around and what he assumed was a doctor's chair in the center of the large room. Tables with various tools were near the chair, Jeff's concern growing rapidly.

"Um, should I be worried? Are you planning on operating on me or something?" April laughed at the question and walked him over to the chair. "No no no. Most of that will be for females, but all the rooms are set up the same. They are going to clear up your rough patches before I get you all dressed up." With that, she took a step back and two of the others stepped forwards.

The two of them looked like any other Capitol citizens. Dressed in bright colors, their faces painted with makeup and who knew what else, their hair just as colorful as every other part of them. One was male, the other two in the room female. They looked harmless enough until one of the females grabbed a pair of tweezers.

The next two hours were probably some of the worst of his life. And that included the time he got stuck in a tree overnight because the rest of his team had left him. The stylists had washed, plucked, shaved, scrubbed his face, cut his hair slightly, and done who knows what else while he was distracted.

"Perfect." April stepped forward again. She had spent the last two hours directing the others, but not laying a hand on Jeff herself. The others seemed pleased with themselves, grinning as they got a final look at Jeff. He turned to look in the large mirror on the wall and cocked his head slightly as he took himself in.

The change wasn't great, but it was there. His eyebrows were more refined, his hair less shaggy while the blonde was brighter, his face clean and unblemished, any trace of tiredness or weakness gone from his features. For people who knew him, it was a large change. For Capitol citizens, he would probably look the same as their first sighting last night.

"You guys can go. We won't need you guys for a while," April waved the three of them off, turning to look Jeff up and down. "You and I need to talk." Her demeanor changed as the door shut. "You are hiding something. I'm not going to pry and ask what – I'm sure I'll find out soon enough – but you can't keep it off your face. You look… nervous, for lack of better wording. You need to keep a confident face. At all times. In judging, the interviews, and in the arena; confidence can mean life or death."

Jeff nodded, April continuing on without allowing him to comment. "Today is just the parade. Will and I have come up with your outfits, based on the whole District 7 lumber thing. Will wanted to go with something plaid, going with the idea of lumberjacks, but I told him that wouldn't work. I was thinking movement. The tools you guys use more than the trees." She went to get the sketch pad on the table, flipping it open for Jeff to see an outfit that looked like someone had taken a chainsaw and turned it into clothing.

"It should be here soon, but we don't have to put it on until later. Tina's outfit is similar, just a dress instead of pants." April seemed proud of herself, looking Jeff up and down for what felt like the hundredth time. "You need to smile or something. Pretend you are honored or at least happy to be here. Wit told you about sponsors."

"I'm honestly getting sick of hearing about sponsors. Everyone knows that Capitol citizens favor tributes from 1 and 2, or anything they consider 'different'. I'm just another kid who will probably die the first night." Jeff didn't know why, but he trusted April. "What's the point?"

"The point is that there are winners from every district. This could be 7's year and I see you winning far more than I see Tina winning. There is a fire in you, I can feel it." She put her hand on his shoulder. "And I'm not just saying this because I'm your stylist. I know you will make it through the first night at the very least."

Both of them whipped their heads around as the door opened, an Avox bringing in a garment bag. The man nodded, hanging the bag before leaving, his steps silent as April grinned at Jeff.

Before the parade, the tribute area was a mad rush of bodies trying to put finishing touches on outfits and giving advice. Jeff craned his neck, trying to catch a glimpse of a certain brunet, but seeing nothing in the mass of colors and people.

"Come on, on the chariot." Witmate nudged Jeff up with Tina and the horses were led over to the line. He could see the teams in front of them, outfits reflecting districts in the most ridiculous manners possible. As the first district's chariot started to move, Will hopped up next to them, pressing a button on the inside of each of the tributes collars, before getting down. The chains on the outfits began to move, looping around Jeff and Tina's bodies.

He had to admit, Jeff was impressed. The outfits were inconvenient, but better than some of the simpler garbs the other stylists had come up.

As their horses moved he heard a final 'Remember to smile!' from Witmate, the stylists and mentors stepping back. The pace of the chariot picked up, rocking the tributes slightly as light began to seep in from the end of the tunnel, the noise of the crowd following close behind. By the time they were out of the tunnel, the cheers from the spectators were deafening.

It took Jeff a minute to take it all in, one hand grabbing the chariot as the other rose up, forcing a smile to meet the request of his team. In his peripheral vision he could see Tina doing the same, her smile a little more genuine.

As the chariots broke out of line, gathering in front of the Gamemakers and President Snow, Jeff took his chance to look at the other Tributes again. It took all of ten seconds for his gaze to fall on the mop of brown hair in chariot for District 2.

_Nick. _The name had been floating around in his head for days and now the boy he had gone so long without was only about thirty yards away. He heard President Snow begin speaking and his attention shifted to the aging man high above them. He spoke, welcoming, congratulating; nothing Jeff hadn't heard before.

It was over quickly. The chariots turned and headed back to the tunnel, tributes smiling and waving as the crowd threw flowers and toys at them.

Once inside again the mass of bodies engulfed him again as tributes were ushered back to their floors, cheers for a great presentation flung between stylists and mentors for nearly every district. Jeff was too distracted by his thoughts to notice the groups moving. _What if I have to kill Nick? Or Tina? Or anyone…_

Before he knew it, they were back on the seventh floor and the mentors were telling the tributes to change for dinner and come back promptly so they could all watch the reviews of the parade.

Changing, dinner, the show; it all went by in the blur. He heard Caesar Flickerman talking about each team's outfits, noting the movement in 7's, the sparkle and shine that went into 1's, and making smaller notes about the others.

"I'm kinda tired. I'll head in early." Jeff stood, eyes watching the screen as faces of tributes rolled by.

"Training begins tomorrow morning. Your outfit is already in your closet. Be ready by eight." Partante reminded him, waving as he walked down the hall to his room.

When he got there Jeff lay down, his eyes drifting shut without him realizing it. When he woke again, the lights of the hall were out and his clock said it was just after midnight. The others would all be in bed and as much as he tried, Jeff couldn't get back to sleep.

"Guess I can explore…" He remembered seeing something in the elevator earlier, and went to go look. Tiptoeing out of the room, he slipped inside and smiled when he saw the button. "Why would you give a bunch of kids access to the roof?"

He took the elevator up, climbing the short staircase the rest of the way only to see the door was already propped open. He stepped forward slowly, stopping only when he picked up a sound. "You're kidding..." he breathed, recognizing it instantly.

Slipping through the doorway, he followed the voice to see Nick leaning against the railing, a force field only a few inches in front of him as he sang quietly to himself.

"You know, they always said you were the better singer," Jeff said loud enough for the other boy to hear. Nick nearly jumped out of his skin as he spun around. When he looked at Jeff, you'd have thought he'd seen a ghost; the blood and emotions drained from his face so quickly.

"Jeffie?" the brunet asked in a breathless voice.

"Hi," Jeff said, instantly feeling stupid. How many years had it been and the only thing he could say was 'hi'? "Um, I didn't think I would run into you until training…"

"Same." Nick took a step forward, reaching a hand out before pulling it back to his body. "I have no idea wh-" He was cut off as Jeff wrapped his arms around the boy, Nick's arms instinctively returning the hug. "Jeff… I feel like there are rules against hugging other tributes"

"There aren't any about hugging the best friend you haven't seen in three, hell almost four years. What happened to the letters?" He remember how heartbroken he had been, waiting day after day for a letter or package or something.

"I sent them. You never sent back?" Nick looked at him for a moment before it dawned on him. "Father… I can't believe that asshole." He pulled out of the hug and raked his hand through his hair. "I sent stuff. He must have intercepted. He always talked about breaking all our old connections."

"I figured as much. I never held it against you." Jeff shrugged.

"God, Jeff. It's so weird seeing you. This isn't how I imagined our reunion." Nick chuckled, walking back over to the railing. "You know, my father is the reason I'm here. As soon as we got to 2 he put me into the tribute academy. He let me get a few years of training in before telling me 'Nicholas'" He dropped his voice a few octaves to match his fathers. "'You need to volunteer. Go into the Games and win. Bring further honor to the Duval name.' He's so paranoid about losing his position in 2 that he wants me to do this for _him._"

"I saw you volunteer. All I could think was 'that's not my Nick. He would never volunteer to kill others'. Your father was always kind of a prick." Jeff joined him against the railing, nudging their shoulders together.

"I saw your reaping. I thought my heart stopped when I saw you climb onto that stage." He shook his head, turning to look at the blond. "We shouldn't be talking like this. We can't go back to being friends. In four days, they are going to send us into that arena to kill each other."

"I know. I'll make you the same promise I made Tina. You don't kill me, I won't kill you. If I see you need help once we are in, we can form some sort of alliance. I don't want to see you die Nicky. Losing you the first time was hard enough. At least I knew you were alive, off happy somewhere."

"I wouldn't say I was happy, but I know what you mean. Okay, I promise not to be the one to kill you. The other twenty two are free game." They shook on it, smiling gently, as if they were kids again making a pact about their club house rather than talking about the act of murder.

"What if it comes down to the two of us…?" The thought struck Jeff hard, an image of the two of them facing off in front of the Cornucopia appearing clearly in his mind.

"Maybe they'll allow two winners?" Nick suggested. Jeff looked at him as if he had grown an extra head.

"There have been sixty eight games before this and there has always been one winner. They don't care if we are friends – they wouldn't care if we were brothers. In the end, if it's just you and me, we'll end up fighting to the death." It was more of a resignation at this point, if by some chance the impossible happened and Jeff made it to the end.

"We'll cross that bridge if we get to it, I guess." Nick pushed off the rail, looking out at the large Capitol buildings surrounding the tower. "I think we should hide this though. Friendship is weakness. If the other careers find out that we have anything deeper than a general knowledge of the other's existence, they'll use it against us."

"I know. The only real alliance that ever works out from the start is the careers. Are you gonna work with them?"

"Yeah. I need to keep up appearances. Keep my sponsors if I can get them. Once we get down to the final seven or so I might break away from them. But until then, I'll be with them."

As much as Jeff didn't like the idea of Nick working with the others to hunt tributes, namely Jeff himself, down, he knew it had to be done. "Okay. I'll do my best to stay out of the way then. Just… hold up your end of the deal." He smirked, clapping Nick on the back.

"It's late. The mentors will wake us early tomorrow for training. We should get back to our rooms. See you tomorrow." He turned to walk away, only to be stopped on Jeff's hand on his shoulder. Before he could comment he was pulled into another tight embrace.

"I really missed you," Jeff said into the brunet's shoulder, his voice weaker than he would have liked.

"I missed you too Jeffie." Nick gave him a light squeeze before pulling back. "We'll figure this out. Meet me here tomorrow night?" He waited for Jeff to nod before taking a step back. "Um, we should wait a few minutes. Let me go first, wait for the elevator, then you go. Don't want to look too suspicious." With that, he turned and headed down the stairs to the elevator.

The second Nick was out of earshot, Jeff started berated himself for looking weak. He knew this could turn on him in about a million different ways. You couldn't trust anyone in the Games. But this was Nick. His Nick. His best friend. The boy who might as well be his twin brother. Nick wouldn't hurt him – would he?

This was slowly getting more and more complicated and Jeff was starting to worry that he wouldn't be able to keep up. One thing was sure in his mind. He wouldn't – he couldn't – hurt Nick. Seeing him again proved that.

Now he had to figure out if it was possible for both of them to get out of this alive.


End file.
